Welcome to Survival of the Fittest, a RPing board loosely based off of Koshun Takami's Battle Royale, with its own unique plot and spin on the 'deadly game'. We've been around quite a while, and are now in our thirteenth year, so don't worry about us going anywhere any time soon!

If you're a newcomer and interested in joining, then please make sure you check out the rules. You may also want to read the FAQ, introduce yourself and stop by the chat to meet some of our members. If you're still not quite sure where to start, then we have a great New Member's Guide with a lot of useful information about getting going. Don't hesitate to PM a member of staff (they have purple usernames) if you have any questions about SOTF and how to get started!

Phillip Ward kicked the heavy grey duffel bag in annoyance. The zipper was stuck and he had spent the last ten minutes trying to force it open. It had been about half an hour since he had awoken and hazily got his bearings. The field of logs and sparse foliage hadn't provided him with the most secure location to awake in and a part of him was glad no one had come across his sleeping body. The heat had woken him up from his gas-induced slumber and Phil had, unlike many of his class, vividly remembered the events of the night before. He had been quick to make a decision, which was to find anyone from the hockey team and stick together. No one else really could be trusted, plus from the weight of the bag he was pretty sure he was packing some heat. The rules made a sick kind of sense to the broad shouldered boy. In fact it seemed to him like they were very close to the rules of real life, make sure you don't get picked on by picking on others. He had witnessed the full effect of the taunts and jibes of the students of Bayview and knew that kids weren't nice. They were Son-of-a-bitch-rat-arse backstabbing cunts and apart from the team, none of those traitorous little shits could be trusted either in getting out of this place or otherwise.

One of the Kronwell's would know what to do, and once the team were together they could get the hell off this island.

"Yeah." Phillip spoke out loud. "Nik'll know what to do. Find Nik."

Glaring at the the bag briefly he took another glance around at his surroundings. Despite the relatively clear view he hadn't seen any other students yet which was a good thing. When a branch snapped nearby he had almost pissed his pants and was ashamed to say that he yelled out "please don't kill me" as quick as he could while falling over. Not that he would tell anyone that. Having reassured himself that he wasn't in any immediate danger he gave another forceful tug at the zipper, which finally gave way.

"Yes you son of bitch, come to Phil. What do we have here?"

Kneeling down Phil chucked the first aid kit aside and grabbed a chunk of bread and biting in to it with gusto. After all the physical work of opening the bag he was hungry and boy did he need to eat. Stuffing his face with the ration he finally pulled out a set of cat claws which he stared at in disbelief.

"What the fuck are these?" Mouth half full Phil willed himself to swallow before continuing. "Where is my goddamn gun?! I'm not fucking wolverine."

Still, if this was one of the weapons he could of got worse, plus Phil knew how to close distances quickly so it wasn't all bad. He paused for a second and mentally reigned himself in. He wasn't seriously thinking about killing his classmates was he? Well it wouldn't be that hard.

"It'd just take a quick stab, and they don't really deserve much better." Phil mumbled to himself, trying to rationalise his thoughts. "Plus I'm only doing it because if I didn't they would do it to me." He straight away recalled the short video of the boy stabbing the girl in the back that Danya had shown the class and nodded to himself.

"I'd only do it if one of those punks pulled any shit though, I ain't no murderer. Just hurt em so they can't come after me. Yeah."

Jamming his gear back in to his bag Phil hoisted the whole thing on to his left shoulder, sliding one cats claw on to his left fist before looking around and deciding on where to start looking for others.

"Just in case," he told himself "just in case."

Sickness: Partially suicidal... very slightly because of my report, but mostly because Jason is dead. All of my personal issues stem from the fact that Jason Harris did not win SotF v4

A wonderful fact to reflect upon, that every human creature is constituted to be that profound secret and mystery to every other.

Posts:

517

Group:

Members

Member

#437

Joined:

April 12, 2009

Flagship Character:

Woozie I guess

"Hey! Hey, you!"

Phil whirled around at the sound of Dom's voice echoing across the semi barren field, studded with stumps and small clumps of bush. The somewhat pudgy boy was loping towards him with all the grace of a wounded hippo. Phil's immediate thought was that of panic, that Dom was coming to kill him with... bumper stickers?

A breath of air rushed out of his lungs as Phil realised he had the leg up here. Moving purposefully towards Dom he growled "Don't you move fatty."

Pointing the claw at the boy he began to stride towards him. Phil fell back to his old ways. Something safe and comfortable.

"Whatcha got in the bag tubby? I might consider letting you live for a while if you hand over your food and anything else you got in there."

Of course it was entirely unlikely that Phil would follow through, but better to gain any advantage he could and make sure he was in control. If he didn't he'd be in trouble. He shuddered at the thought of him breaking down. Bullying was a coping mechanism, one that had worked well in the past and he wasn't going to change what wasn't broken.

Still advancing menacingly towards Dom Phil heard a loud snap of a branch, echoing slightly across the area. "Fuck," he said in shock as hesitation crossed his face. Whoever was lurking out in his periphery might be playing, worse, they might have a gun and seen him as a threat. Phil paused, now uncertain, his routine interrupted just as if a schoolteacher had happened upon the scene and he was about to receive a stern telling off.

Sickness: Partially suicidal... very slightly because of my report, but mostly because Jason is dead. All of my personal issues stem from the fact that Jason Harris did not win SotF v4

A wonderful fact to reflect upon, that every human creature is constituted to be that profound secret and mystery to every other.

Posts:

517

Group:

Members

Member

#437

Joined:

April 12, 2009

Flagship Character:

Woozie I guess

Phil grinned as Dom chucked the bag over to him. Dumping his own so he would have a free hand he narrowed his eyes at his victim "Yeah thats what I thought." The branch snap was probably just a small animal or something. No one had come out to reprimand him, or shoot him. Striding forward Phil grabbed Dom by the scruff of the neck with his spare hand and pushed him back, making the boy fall over just out of sight of Tiffany's hiding place.

"Ya got a big mouth kid and you're lucky I'm such a nice guy. Anyway else would'a run you through." Phil gave the prone form of Dom a swift kick. "You get the hell outta here. If I see you again you're dead meat. Got it?"

Phil snarled again and swiped his claw across Dom's face, mere inches from his nose. Seeing that the boy was sufficiently cowed he spat and turned away, yelling in to the clearing.

"I'm fucking in charge now and where the *fuck* is everyone!"

Stomping back to the two duffels he unzipped Dom's emptying the contents on the ground, kicking away the book and hurling the torch at the still shivering form of his classmate after removing the batteries and stuffing them in his pocket.

"Here you corpse, a little something for your troubles." Phil laughed as he stuffed Dom's rations in to his own bag as well as the medkit.

Getting ready to move off and pulling out his map he stopped for a second, staring near Tiffany's hiding place. Phil squinted. Did he just see somebody moving? He paused once more waiting for a sign to confirm that he did see something. Waiting a few seconds he saw no more movement. So he shrugged and turned away, looking back down at the map and thinking about where to go.

He wasn't the best with geography so this was going to take awhile.

Sickness: Partially suicidal... very slightly because of my report, but mostly because Jason is dead. All of my personal issues stem from the fact that Jason Harris did not win SotF v4

A wonderful fact to reflect upon, that every human creature is constituted to be that profound secret and mystery to every other.

Posts:

517

Group:

Members

Member

#437

Joined:

April 12, 2009

Flagship Character:

Woozie I guess

Phil jumped in surprise as the loud BANG echoed across the semi-barren field. Someone out there had a gun. Spinning around he tried to locate the shooter in vain. There was nothing out there. Maybe they were far, far away, or maybe he had just imagined it.

"Get a grip Phil, you ain't scared of some pussy wielding a gun, they ain't gonna know how to use it correct like anyway."

Turning back to the map, but glancing up occassionally to make sure no one appeared out of thin air, and that Dominic was still curled in to a ball. He laughed cruelly when he saw that Dominic was still a shivering mess. The more things changed, the more they stayed the same.

Just as he finally thought he had his bearings he heard Tiffany's blood curdling scream and turned. Someone had just killed a girl, and they're coming this way! Probably the same person who had shot before.

Usually when fight or flight kicked in Phil's response was to fight, but this was different and he was terrified. Deep down Phil was a coward at heart. Someone had a gun and they weren't afraid to use it. And someone who could sneak well too since he hadn't seen anything. Whirling around to try and locate the source of the scream Phil spotted the silhouette of William in the distance.

He didn't even think about going back for Dom or trying to see if the girl was still alright he just ran blindly away from the figure as fast as he could holding desperately on to the two duffel's with a white knuckle grip.